Pyromaniac
by ButtonsMagoo
Summary: He just likes starting fires.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Yeah, I know **_**another**_** one, but this idea was just to tempting! I'm not gonna talk too much though, I just wanna apologise for shortness but it's just like a 'taster' of you like. So please, give me your feedback and tell me what you think!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Mighty Boosh, I make ****no**** profit from these so please don't sue me, and even if I **_**did**_** own it, Noel and Julian would do a far better job than me. xD**

**Pyromaniac – chapter one.**

Shocking orange and yellow flames burst through a double-glazed window, sending the shard hurtling downwards and continuing its feast on the small two-bedroomed flat, burning at the terracotta brickwork and making its way up to the tiled roof.

Screams echoed from the inside of the rapidly burning building, yelps came from the dog trapped inside with its owner, and people from all over the street came running out in their slippers and dressing gowns, all holding a mobile phone in hand shaking. Sirens could be heard all over the city, the late night club rush was on for the emergency services and no one knew whether the sirens were for them, and for the people trapped inside the building.

Mr.Noir had escaped, dragging his two sons along with him, but forgetting about his wife. The three of them stood outside the house, hands covering their faces, tears filled the young boy's eyes whereas a plan was forming in that of their fathers. Mr.Noir pulled of his jacket and dived back into the burning house, ignoring the cried from his children and the neighbours.

The smoke got thicker, darker and the air was getting thinner, the oxygen around them was depleting and there was still no sign of the emergency services, or in fact no show of the children's father. But the arrival of an eerie silence, the screams and cries had stopped, the people around had stopped shouting, the children had stopped screaming and all that could be heard was the snap, crackle and pop of the fire, greedily making it's way onto the next house. The cul-de-sac was threatened by the greedy orange beast.

-x-

The last of the fire had been doused, the damage was horrifying – a shell of the once beautiful house was all that stood. Smoke still plumed from certain areas of the carnage, cinders puffed from the rafters of the 'house' and people passing laid flowers down by the lamppost.

The fire fighters turned to hoses off and the chief walked over to one of his colleagues.

"I don't understand, this doesn't look like an accident."


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n: Hey, thanks for the reviews! :D Here's chapter two, this is the introduction of Alfie Noir! So, enjoy.**

**d/c: I don't own the boosh, never have and I never will.**

**Pyromaniac chapter two.**

Music blared out the open window of the small Dalston flat, the curtains billowing around caught in the windy updraft. Inside the room papers were strewn all over the floor, doodled on or painted on, the artist of the pieces lay on a shocking yellow rug, his tongue sticking out and his hand ferociously running along the paper leaving a orange scribble behind it. Each piece of paper piled up had a different picture on, and the hand placed a last sheet down before picking the wad up and flicking through them as great speeds, watching as the various doodles came to live and danced along the bottom of the pages telling a small story about a woman trapped in a fire. He laughed before setting down the papers and packing the felt tip pens away in their package.

"Vince!" a voice called from the other room, Vince smiled turned the stereo down, kicked the papers under his bed and walked off towards the voice.

"Phone." Naboo lisped as he held the banana shaped phone out, Vince smiled and answered.

"Heya."

"_Hey! Listen mate, I really need to talk to you, are you free tonight? Come to a club for a little discussion?"_ Vince smiled.

"Hey Alfie. Yeah, I mean I've not got a lot on at all. Although, you wouldn't mind if I brought my friend Howard along with me, would you?"

_"Yes, of course! Look, gotta run cause my girlfriends calling. Meet me at the Charmed Lock at eight yeah?"_

_"Alright' see you then!"_

_"Bye."_

--

Vince and Howard stood outside the club, it was reasonably quiet with only four or five clubbers passing the bouncers each hour or so. The rain splashed of the tarpaulin shelter and bounced to the floor, and Howard's jumper was wrapped around Vince in a vain attempt to keep him warm through his very revealing jumpsuit. A buzz came from inside his Lambretta messenger bag, Vince reached inside and pulled out his phone.

"Who is it?"

"Alfie." Vince mumbled, as he thumbed the keys and read the message before throwing it back in the bag and grumbling under his breath.

"Is he not coming?" Howard asked.

"He's already here, inside the club. Since when was that _outside_ the club. C'mon." Vince stormed off toward the large bouncer, stopped for a bag check and then was nodded to go in. Howard had the same treatment.  
When inside the club the music pulsated, the lights flashed and strobes glided over the various dancers on the floor, illuminating them and their sparkly outfits. Vince glided through the chairs and tables, meandering his way to the bar where he ordered himself a Smirnoff ice (he wasn't in the mood for a proper drink) and Howard a scotch. They then made their way over to a small table in the corner near the bar, away from the dance floor and DJ, and accompanied Alfie, who was drinking alone.

"Alright there Vince!" He shouted, holding up his pint glass and beckoning him and Howard forwards, patting the seat next to him. Vince sat and smiled.

"Alright Alfie. Why didn't you meet us outside?"

"It's raining, ain't it." Alfie replied, smiling.

"Yeah, but – oh never mind. How've you been?" Vince replied, talking a swig from his bottle and setting it down.

"Oh yeah, am not bad thanks although, we're not here for a light social, I need to get down to business. Y'know Uncle Peter?" Alfie spoke, his voice adopted a sudden seriousness.

"Yes?"

"Well, he's dying." Alfie said solemnly, referring to the man who'd looked after the children since their parents had died in a fire, many years back.  
Vince shuffled in his seat, his eyes becoming focused to the ground and a speck of dust on his boots. Howard looked over at the smaller man and smiled uncomfortably

"Vince?" Howard asked, but he got no reply he just looked over at Alfie who was looking at his younger brother, eyes wide. "c'mon, hear your brother out. It can't be all that bad."

"Alfie." Vince spoke, looking up. "What's wrong? Why is he dying?"

"The doctors don't know, it's confusing them but he's in hospital now. Vince, he's written a will, you're getting' all his money." Alfie spoke, his voice lilting upwards as he spoke.

"As if I care about his money, Alfie he's dying and all you can worry about it money! That's so fuckin' typical of you isn't it! This man raised us like dad would've done!"

"Yeah, like he would've done had you not killed him and mum in a fire!" Alfie shouted back. Vince clamped his hands to his ears, blocking out all the noises.

"You – you don't mean that." He cried as he rocked backwards and forward, the crackles of the fire echoing in his mind.

"Yeah, I do murderer. How can you be so selfish and think about his health when you've got a good four million euro's coming your way?" Alfie shouted, standing up out of his seat and looking down on Vince, who was sobbing into his hands shaking. Alfie's face grew red, and his fists clamped together.

"NO! Alfie, you've just crossed the line. Either stop right there or leave." Howard shouted, jumping over the table and pushing Alfie away from Vince, Alfie just sighed.

"I guess you're right, you might wanna take him away for a bit. Outside maybe? Calm him down." Alfie said, nodding sympathetically at Vince. "Sorry little guy."  
Howard shook his head and grabbed Vince's hand, helping him up and leading him through the dancers, past the DJ and out the back door, into the cold cellar area for the smokers.

Alfie smiled as he watched them leave, he looked down and grinned as he spotted Vince's bag lying around lazily. He picked it up and placed it on the table, unzipped the white fake leather and rummaged around its contents, tossing a soaking wet scarf aside, pocketing a packet of fruit pastilles and placing a tissue inside Howard's empty scotch glass, and then he found them. Vince's medication, he smiled to himself as he popped the lid open and emptied the blue capulets into a small sandwich bag, and replaced them with the contents of another pot he had in his own bag that he'd taken from his medicine cabinet that day, he threw the pot back in Vince's bag, zipped it back up and placed it back on the floor, laughing.

"Let's watch the crazy train de-rail, and check in at mental central, then that four million will be mine. Not his."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for the reviews! Here's the next instalment! Enjoy.**

**Pyromaniac chapter three**

The front door to the small London apartment slammed, converse squelched on linoleum floor and something hitting it with a heavy thud, laughing echoed through the hallway of the small area and a head perked up from the sofa. Blonde hair tumbled forwards, and black eye-lined eyes addressed the new arrival to the flat. She sat up and giggled as she saw the look on her boy friends face.

"Hello Alfie." She smirked, sitting up and pulling her tartan dressing gown tighter round herself, Alfie just smiled and placed a kiss on her head, before reaching behind his back and presenting her with a medication pot. The girl squealed with glee. "You got them?" She laughed, Alfie nodded.

"Yes. And now it's only a matter of time before he snaps and looses his mind. Then he'll either end up killing himself, or we'll get him committed. Both ways that money is ours and we'll be able to get out of this hovel of an apartment and move up in the world." Alfie smiled, throwing the pot into the paper bin next to the coffee table, he then threw himself on the sofa next to the woman, and placed an arm round her smiling. "We'll phone Dr. Woods in a week. This by then should be long enough. Eh Rachel?"

"Yeah." Rachel replied, planting a kiss on Alfies soft cheek.

--

The taxi sped down the water drenched road, the suspension bouncing the out of service London cab, in turn jolting its passengers. Vince sat staring out the window, his face stained with tears and his cheeks cold from the frozen window. Howard sighed, and reached for Vince's bag, the zipper half un-done. He reached inside and rummaged around for the pot he'd been looking for, upon finding it he pulled it out and examined the instructions.

_'One caplet to be taken twice daily.'_

Howard sighed, and opened the pot peering inside, and roughly counting how many there was. 'Enough to get him through the week' he thought.

"Vince?" He asked, looking over at the slumped figure in the cab.

"Mm?"

"How many have you taken today?"

"One."

"When we get back to the flat you're to take another yes? Might calm your nerves down a bit, eh little man?" Howard spoke, a laugh creeping out in his tone, he was hoping to get a small smile from Vince by the end of this journey.

"Ok." Vince replied, Howard sighed.

"He didn't mean it Vince, he's grieving – something he's entitled to, and I guess it went to his head."

"He's not grieving," Vince mumbled "He's only in this for the money, you heard him."

'Ah' Howard thought, remembering the other things that where said.

"Okay, but he didn't mean to call you a murderer; he knows it's wrong and used it to get to you. Is that what you're upset about? Him calling you a murderer?" Howard asked, reaching over the seat divide and placing a hand on his shoulder. Which began to shake violently as more sobs erupted from the smaller man, the taxi driver looking behind him and then looking back as the traffic lights then turned from red back to green, Vince nodded slowly.

"Hey! You're not a murderer, you were five. You're ill." Howard asked, trying to be comforting but realising he was doing about a good a job as a rock. Vince suddenly snapped, his body turning right round to address Howard.

"That's it then isn't it – I'm ill! I'm ill therefore I can get away with anything, I'm sick and tired of people treating me any different because of _that."_ He spat, shaking violently, Howard receded back to his seat, mumbling something under his breath 'mood swings' he muttered, stabbing at his leg with his finger and sighed.

"I'm sorry." He replied looking over as Vince again turned back to the window, sobbing again.

The taxi stopped as it pulled up outside the flat. Howard thrust a handful of notes at the driver and ran out the taxi after Vince who'd already undone his seatbelt, dived out the vehicle and scarpered.

'This is going to be a long night' Howard though as he stepped through the front door.


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm good to you aren't I? Sorry for it's shortness though, but I have a bit of block and like an old tube of toothpaste this is all I could squeeze out my mind-tank. So bear with me!**

**Disclaimer – I don't own The Mighty Boosh, if did I wouldn't be here posting this. Now would I?**

**Pyromaniac – chapter 4**

Vince sat in the corner of the room, his thumb and forefinger resting on his outward poking bottom lip. Other than occasionally sniffing, and fidgeting the electro poof did nothing else but mope. It had been three days since he'd spoken to his brother in that nightclub and three days since Howard had been on red alert with his behaviour. The shop wasn't open today as Naboo, shockingly, refused to allow Howard to man the shop with his other worker seeming so delicate, and not only emotionally delicate. The raven haired man seemed even more, than usual, delicate to the touch. His skin was a shocking shade, porcelain like that of a doll, his eyes again glassy like a doll and even his movements where rigid, and stiff. Everything about him seemed so weak, and run down at that moment in time that, if Howard were to poke him, even gently, the man would shatter into a million pieces. And shatter he did, which took Howard by surprise. Vince crumpled forwards, tears erupting painfully from his lower lids, splashing down his pronounced cheekbones, and onto his skinny fit jeans, making the dark grey patches of denim, turning the darkest shade they could go. Howard jumped from the sofa and ran over to his friend, dropping to his knees and snaking a comforting arm around his back.

"Vince?" He asked, soothingly, cocking his head to the side and peering under the mass of black fringe, hiding the burning up, blue crystals. Vince turned his head away; pulling his t-shirt up over his mouth and sinking further into him self.

"What's wrong?" Howard asked, again not expecting a reply.

"Mm." Vince mumbled back, shaking his head. Howard sighed, and stood back up, smiling down on Vince and walking off into the kitchen, clinking mugs, and coffee pots while he was in there. Humming along to his newest 'Wee-Wee Jefferson' record that was replaying over and over in his head, Howard soon sunk into a 'Jazz Trance' and became completely oblivious to the destruction occurring the opposite room.

--

Alfie stood in the mirror of his flat, practising something.

"I don't know what to do, my poor brother he- " Alfie began, his voice donning a concerned manner, and 'tears' began to glaze his eyes "If he was to be committed, I don't know what I'd do, but If you say it's what's best for him, then as his only caring family member, I think you should take him. No matter how much it hurts." Alfie finished his face damp. His act finally convincing himself, he smiled, from ear to ear then turned to look at Rachael who was laughing behind him, both her thumbs elevated in the air.

"What do we do now?" She asked, pulling him towards her with his tie.

"We wait." And with that he planted a soft kiss on her rosy lips.


	5. Chapter 5

**It's been a while, hasn't it? Sorry for the neglection, I moved over to LiveJournal, and kinda forgot about FF. ****.com/**** - that's where you'll find me now, although I'll not neglect you guys again! Sorry, ahaha. This is part of my NYR to get all these finished, and then it'll be off my mind – y'know. Thanks to all those who've reviewed so far, and to those who've favourited! :D I love you! Hehe, now without anymore rambling here we go – chapter, 5!**

Empty mugs flew across the living quarters of the flat, hurtling full speed, colliding with the wall and smashing into a million pieces (not strictly speaking) and crashing to the floor, joining the other shards of broken glass, and empty cans. Screams cried out through the almost empty flat, as more objects assaulted the wall, a small hairline crack becoming evident in the paint work. It stopped, the cries coming to a sudden halt, the violence no longer being supported, as the figure just fell to the floor, sobbing.

Howard jumped, how long had he been under like that? He thought, before shrugging the Jazz Trance off completely, and pouring water over the tea bags, sat awkwardly in their mugs. He added a drop off milk, removed the floating bags and waltzed into the room, humming absent minded, oblivious.

"Vince!" he cried, as he looked up, analysing the mess, and fixating his vision to the shaking huddle on the floor, he chucked the mugs back on the side, the hot water sloshing over the edge and prickling at his hands, before jumping into action and running to his friend. He pulled the jumper from over his head, and searched around for his chin, pulling his head up to his level once done. He brushed the sopping wet hair from his face, and ran a quick thumb under his eyes, drawing the tears towards his ears. Vince shook, closing his eyes and pulling away, only stopped by Howard who pulled his head back around, shocked when he saw that the broken look about him, had been replaced with a deep frown and a snarling smile. Howard shuddered; he'd never seen him like this, ever.

"Vince, what's wrong?" Howard asked, hesitantly, jumping when Vince stood abruptly, pointing a sharp finger towards him, before raising it upwards and running his hand through his hair, usually a trademark habit of his, but in this sense it wasn't right, it was too vigorous, Howard feared that a clump of black wasn't going to fall away with it.

"You really don't get it do you!" Vince bellowed, angry tears prickling his eyes. "Why do you do this to me, hmm? You're so stupid; all I want is a friend! My fucking uncles dying, my brothers being an arsehole and you do _nothing! _ Apart from blunder around, as normal! Seriously Howard, did you ever stop and think about me? My needs? No. You didn't, did you!" Vince screamed, dropping back to the floor, hugging his knees and shaking violently.

"Vince, what's come over…what do you mean?" Howard asked, hurt. Drawing back slightly, but still looking down at the smaller man, concerned even now.

"I…Howa…" Vince began, stopping himself.

"Vince…"

"I… oh God! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it, I just feel lonely – all the time, and I…doesn't matter."

"No, go on…"

"It really doesn't matter Howard, just – I need a friend, that's all I need. A friend, please." Vince cried, looking up through his fringe, eyes broken and weeping. Howard sighed and smiled, looking around at the room, and laughing softly.

"Did you do all this?" He asked, nodding to the mess by the wall. Vince nodded, silently. Hanging his head.

"What are we goin' to do with you, eh?... wait, have you been taking…"

"Yes Howard! God sake, I'm not stupid!"

"I was just wondering, these mood swings… they're not like you." Howard sighed, prodding a piece of terracotta that had bounded across the carpet, and was now sitting by the coffee table leg.

--

"Rachel, I'm thinking about going out." Alfie smiled, stroking Rachel's hair, as she lay beside him on the sofa.

"Oh yeah babe, where?" She asked, softly.

"Might go pay my dear little brother a visit, I mean he needs updating about our Uncle, after all." Alfie sneered playfully, sitting up, allowing Rachel to flop on the sofa, he clambered over her and pulled his shoes on.

"Okay Hun, I'll have something special for you when you get back, yes?" She asked, winking. Alfie just smiled, and planted a kiss on her forehead, walking out the room and down the stairs, into the street and along to the small shop, only a five minute walk away.

--

Howard smiled, as he picked the shards of glass and mug off the floor, dropping them into an old cardboard box, every now and then glancing over to the sofa, where Vince was asleep, peacefully; a small smile playing across his face. Howard shook his head, and carried on collecting the pieces up, when the door rang; he sighed and left the box where it was, walking past Vince, smiling down on him then carrying on down the stairs to the front door. He opened it, sighing.

"Hi Alfie."

"Hey Howard, uh…I was just wondering, is Vince around?" Alfie asked, standing on his tip-toes and peering over his shoulder, up the stairs of the flat.

"No, sorry. He's asleep." Howard replied, dead-panned.

"What, at this time of day?"

"Yeah, well he's had a little… tantrum this morning, and so he thought it'd be best to, y'know sleep it off. Although, I'll tell him you called round when he wakes?"

"Oh, is he alright? I mean, you don't think it could be…"

"I don't know Alfie, if it keeps up though I'll get him to the doctors, don't worry."

"Well, I can get in contact with his _doctor, _you know…"

"Thanks Alfie, but I think I can handle it, see you."

"Yeah…okay, bye then!"


End file.
